


Check-Up

by jdphoenix



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Episode: s01e10 The Bridge, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 11:11:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3325352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Grant is not jealous of Mike Peterson. Not even a little.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Check-Up

**Author's Note:**

> Ward's not sleeping with May ~~because ew~~.

Grant's sore and hurting from the beating he took. Peterson, in contrast, got stabbed through the chest and is actually  _laughing_  with Simmons while she patches him up. Which literally looks like it's just gonna be a patch over the wounded area.

She's smiling and babbling more than usual, miming events in whatever  _hilarious_  story has Peterson cracking up.

"What's happening here?" Grant asks as Fitz wanders by with equipment he'll need for the debriefing upstairs. Which is where Grant should be right now, except he's been reduced to waiting in line for his own post-mission check-up.

Fitz rolls his eyes dramatically. "What's happening," he says, "is that Agent Simmons is losing all her good sense just because some bloke's got his shirt off. You'd think she's never seen a naked body before." He scoffs as he heads upstairs. "Dissected enough of 'em in school."

Grant's face does this thing. Maybe if Skye were here she'd call it a pout, but she'd be  _wrong_. It's a frown, just a frown because Simmons should be more professional than that. He heard her earlier too, when they were leaving for the mission. It's one thing for Fitz to be gushing over his new suit - and, okay, maybe Grant  _really_  wants one for himself - but Simmons? She was completely out of line with those comments about Peterson's physique.

She's readjusting the bandage on Peterson's chest even though from where Grant's standing, it's holding perfectly fine. Grant coughs. Loudly.

Simmons snatches her hand back like she's been burned.

"Sorry," Grant says. He coughs again, just for good measure.

"I should get upstairs," Peterson says. "Rest a little."

"Yes, right," Simmons says quickly.

Peterson smiles at Grant as he passes him by, which would probably go over better if Simmons wasn't obviously staring at his ass. Grant tilts his head to the side, waiting for her to remember what they're doing here. She sighs - an actual dreamy sigh - before even remembering he's there.

"Ward! Right! Come on, your turn!"

Grant doesn't like to think of himself as a bad patient. He knows how important proper medical care is for someone in his line of work. But he also knows his own body pretty well and he knows his limitations. So he lets Simmons take care of the things that need taking care of and the rest he keeps to himself and lives with. But today he takes off his shirt without being asked and takes his usual seat.

"All right," Simmons says once she's got a new pair of gloves on, "what do we have to- Agent Ward?" she asks slowly.

"Yes?" He keeps his gaze fixed casually on the wall opposite.

"Are you sucking in your non-existent gut?" She might be laughing a little at him.

"What? No." There is absolutely no reason he'd be doing something like that. If he looks slimmer than normal, it's just his new workout routine.

"Uh huh." Simmons punches him in the chest. She's actually pretty strong for someone her size, has to be for the work she does, but not strong enough he'd usually feel it enough to hurt. Usually. If she hadn't hit him right where one of the supersoldiers caught him earlier.

He grunts, curling in on himself. She pats his now-relaxed abs.

"Uh huh," she says again. "Now let's see."

"I should report you," he says as he straightens up. "That is definitely not SHIELD SOP."

"And I am not a real medic," she points out as she feels his ribs. "To which, when I told Coulson so on our first mission, he replied that I should just do whatever works." She smiles sweetly up at him. "Pain works."

Even though he's still in a little bit of pain - more of it leftover from the op than from Simmons - Grant laughs. He obediently lets her examine his face when she pulls his chin down.

"What was that about then?" she asks. She tsks over the bruising but leaves it be, knowing he'll ice it without having to be told.

"What?" he asks as she moves around to his back. He's hyperaware of her behind him - her gloved hands moving over injuries old and new, her breath warm in the cool air of the lab - but he can't  _see_  her and something about that's driving him crazy.

She reaches around to give his stomach a light slap. " _That_ ," she says good-naturedly.

"You shouldn't do that," he says.

"Do what?" She's up by his shoulder now, feeling the knot he's got there. She digs her thumbs firmly into it and he swivels around on the stool to catch her hands out of the air. Her eyes are wide, her mouth open slightly in shock.

"Attack a specialist from behind."

She relaxes instantly. "Oh, Ward." She laughs lightly and walks towards the trashcan. "If there's nothing else? You know to ice your bruises of course but it looks like you were incredibly lucky. You made it out with barely any injuries."

"No, that's it," he says, climbing to his feet. He can hear her gloves snapping off and the trash opening and closing. He almost makes it to the doors. "Nope, sorry, I gotta ask."

He spins on his heel and she's looking at him with that same shocked expression again. Someone should probably tell her that it's very dangerous for her mouth to make that shape. It gives a guy ideas.

"Is it because he's a science experiment?" Grant asks.

Now she just looks confused, which is only a minor improvement. "What? Who?"

"Peterson," Grant practically shouts. "It's like you can't keep your hands off him."

" _Oh!_ " Her face goes red and she pulls herself up to her full height (not as impressive as she thinks it is) in rage. "How  _dare_  you. I am completely professional!"

"You wanna check the security feed? Because I'm pretty sure the tape'll say different."

Simmons shifts uncomfortably, crossing her arms under her breasts. Her lab coat's open so it's almost like she's holding them on display. "Perhaps I've been a little … distracted by the newest addition to our team-"

Grant laughs.

"-but it hasn't interfered with my work! Or anyone else's. So what, precisely, is your problem, Agent Ward? Am I not allowed to be attracted to a fellow agent?"

"No," he says so quickly he shocks himself. He was not expecting to say that.

"Oh," she says. Grant's still trying to figure out  _what the hell he meant_  but he thinks she might sound hurt. "Well. Good to know. I'm sure you can inform Fitz and Skye of the change in SHIELD policy." She turns away from him to busy herself with samples from the corpse they brought back.

"That is  _not_  what I meant."

She slams her hands on the table so her vials shake. "Then what exactly did you mean, Agent Ward? Please enlighten me."

"Um." He's supposed to be a specialist! He literally once convinced a mass murderer not to kill him because it was  _morally wrong_. How is it he can't come up with anything to say now?

"Um  _what_ , Agent Ward?" Simmons asks. She marches slowly towards him, chin lifted high in defiance. "Why am I not permitted to be attracted to a fellow agent? Or did you perhaps mean to say, 'No, Simmons, it is absolutely none of my business and I'm sorry to have brought it up at all'? Or maybe, 'No, Simmons, I am a complete  _prat_  and-'"

He is  _so_  getting kicked off the team, he thinks, but it doesn't even a little bit stop him from grabbing Simmons' face and kissing her. Her mouth's already open, which is just a fantastic bonus. That tongue of hers gets enough exercise with all the talking she does, he's not surprised to find she's good with it in other ways.

He runs his fingers through her hair, forcing the hair tie she's wearing out and letting it fall free. He's been wanting to run his fingers through it ever since he had to sit and watch her comb it out as they were ferried back to the mainland after their fall. It feels better than he imagined.

Her hands are sliding over his bare chest and  _wow_  was taking his shirt off ever the right decision. She's touching him like she wants to reach every inch at once. He can't help but wonder if she's been dreaming of doing a few things to him herself.

When he finally pulls back they're both gasping but his neck hurts from the angle and if they're gonna keep this up they'll have to relocate to one of the stools. Or a bunk.

It hits him all at once how utterly stupid that would be, how utterly stupid  _all_  of this was. He brings a hand up to clutch his head like he wants to beat himself senseless for being such an idiot. Since that won't work, he settles for cursing himself.

"Well, I don't think the lab's quite the place," Simmons says lightly. And he should probably start calling her Jemma, at least in his head. Of course the disciplinary committee might not be so harsh if he retains some aloof professionalism… God, this is gonna be a nightmare. He backs towards the door.

"Sorry," he says, "I don't know what came over me. I'll just … go ask May to knock me out for you, how's that sound?"

"I do," Simmons says before he can make the door. "Know what came over you, I mean."

Slowly, he turns to face her. She's grinning, looking pretty full of herself. Which does some pretty amazing things for his own self-confidence too, since he's the one who did that to her.

"What?" he asks, genuinely curious.

" _You_  were jealous. You saw me fawning over Agent Peterson and wondered why I never give you the same attention."

He could deny it, would have a few minutes ago, but the second she says it he knows it's the real reason. "Because I'm not a glorified lab rat?" he asks, hoping to regain some of his pride.

"No," she answers readily. "Because you're  _on my team_. I've always had a weakness for…" Her gaze drifts down his chest. "Well, all of that. And I knew if I was ever to make it on a field team I would have to keep those urges in check in regards to my teammates. From the moment we met, as far as I was concerned, you were not a man, but an agent. Nothing more."

"Oh." Something inside Grant sinks.

"Which was a difficult enough policy to maintain before, I'll have you know, and which you have now completely ruined, I'm afraid," she says. "So once the mission is over, you and I will be revisiting this."

He opens his mouth to apologize again.

"Multiple times most likely," she finishes. She's already turned back to her work but he can see the smile on her lips.

He thinks he's gonna like that discussion.


End file.
